For some minutes it resisted stubbornly, and even when the lock was broken, the lid clung firmly, and the rusted hinges refused to perform their office.

But at length they yielded, and slowly, unwillingly, the box opened.

Hilda's breath came short and quick, and she clasped her hands unconsciously as she bent forward to look into the mysterious casket.

What did she see?
At first nothing but a handkerchief,--a yellow silk handkerchief, of curious pattern, carefully folded into a small square and fitting nicely inside the box.

That was all; but Farmer Hartley's voice trembled as he said, in a husky whisper, "Father's hankcher!" and it was with a shaking hand that he lifted the folds of silk.